Category Archives: random

A Roundup that won’t give you cancer…

FILLER WATCH: The latest to succumb to the Juvederm/Restylane/Filler-Of-The-Month succubi are Maggie Haberman and, surprisingly, Asha Rangappa. Yes, they look good. Damned. Good. Yes, I covet their damned injectable hyaluronic acid. But alas (and alack), injectables are like the new Logan’s Run with class separation thrown in for (debatably) good measure.

wrinkles the clownEVIL CLOWN WATCH: Hailing from – where else? – Florida, WRINKLES THE CLOWN is an eponymous documentary about its subject, a creepy AF clown that unfit parents hire to terrorize their children. It’s also a look in general at the place clowns have taken in pop culture and in folklore, the desire that some other kids with actual decent upbringings have to scare the hell out of themselves, and a look into the mindset and mission statement of the anonymous-for-his-own-safety entity underneath the eyeless Michael Myers-esque clown mask and blousy polka-dotted onesie. If you can get through the completely horrific wails of the terrified children in the background of Wrinkles’ voicemails from parents using him as a punitive device in place of genuine parenting, it’s a pretty fascinating – and creepy – documentary.

“YOU GOTTA HAVE HEART” WATCH: Currently available via HBO, you can catch Gary Gulman’s The Great Depresh – which is the best comedic special about mental illness I’ve seen since Chris Gethard’s Career Suicide (also available on HBO). Gary is an amazing guy as well as a spot-on comedian. Every day, he tweets out tips for hopeful new comics to encourage them to WRITE. And they are some damn fine tips (for example, he urges them to read “Self-Reliance” by Ralph Waldo Emerson, one of the finest essays going on how to be unapologetically yourself, and conform to no other standards than your own – which is so important to comedians, especially in the face of attempted censorship).

GALAXY MIND WATCH: Feeling a little woo-woo? Want some words every day that you can project your own stuff onto that ISN’T a horoscope? Want to be occasionally freaked out by how uncannily accurate something randomly is? Sign up for Notes From The Universe. It’s been the first email I read every weekday morning – even when I’m too damn insane to read anything else – for several years now. I’ve gotten a lot out of it. You might, too. What the hell, it’s free, why not?


There But For The Grace of Utter Failure, Go I

I’ll be candid. I have a Billie Eillish problem.

I don’t have anything against her. She is supremely talented. Inarguably cool. Undeniably successful. And basically, doing everything that I wanted to do, since like, forever.

I mean, okay. I get it. I have a lovely singing voice. I have perfect pitch. I am very musically inclined. I composed, performed and produced two CDs of original music. So, of course I should be a fringe performer in the adult industry making what amounts to an average of $6 an hour. Obviously, all the criteria is there.

In fact, few people truly appreciate the large number of unused skills one should have to be a marginally-subsisting fetish model. Coding, for instance. If you have an aptitude for HTML5, CSS, and Javascript like I do, and you are also learning front end libraries, then of course the adult industry is where you really need to not utilize these skills.

Get a A in that Marketing Course you took at the for-profit college that ripped you off and derailed your future? Be sure not to use that.

Also, a solid grasp of your native language really goes to waste here, so you can use the spare time you have from not being able to afford to go anywhere to forget words with more than three syllables. If you find, however, that doesn’t really take long to do, then by all means, dispense with those three-syllable words themselves, as well. You will not miss them. Okay, well, there is ONE that is useful. Okay, TWO. But the rest?

You could be busy hitting the bong and killing the brain cells that store that information in the time it takes to even CONSIDER that question. Get to it!

(And find my fucking lighter, please.)

Additionally, a great sense of humor that you can let languish and die is always a bonus in this position. If fueling suicidal ideation is in YOUR five-year plan, you simply cannot do without the slow downward spiral being dead inside provides, as it will eventually diminish your ability to laugh at life’s follies. You will find this monotonous lack of cheer and the lack of energy that comes with it NOT AT ALL INFECTIOUS. And that’s what it’s all about, amirite, friends?

No, but seriously. Billie Eillish may be famous and rich and internationally beloved and very attractive and successful and happy and able to travel and get her hair done in a salon on a regular basis, but MY job lets you get high and masturbate all day, and in the final analysis, isn’t that what “giving back” REALLY means?

This elaborate rationalization of Loser Life sponsored by….


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Cancel Culture, Cancel Thyself

(Cancel culture, political correctness, change your art.)

American Frightfest Thought (SPOILER ALERT): It really would have been the cherry on top had they made the so-called Monster the older, perennially abusive brother of the younger, self-proclaimed Wrong Monster. Because then, I could have been like, WHOA, because I would have been projecting my own horrible abusive dysfunctional sibling relationship with a bona fide Monster onto their relationship, and found the film extremely profound. Because it’s all about ME, after all, isn’t it?

Just Don't Look, say the censor-y pearl clutchersBecause that’s what we’re all doing these days, right? Insisting works of creativity be re-written to suit our own particular tastes and sensibilities and jibe with our own interior narratives, or cancel culture kicks in? Because we don’t want stories that challenge us to look at things in a different way but instead we just want those that mirror the same old worldviews and beliefs we’ve always held, yeah? I mean, shouldn’t they have just changed the series finale of Game of Thrones because it didn’t end the way people thought or wanted it to do so?


ART IS NOT A DEMOCRACY. (Disclosure: On the matter of whether Game of Thrones is Art: I can’t weigh in. I’ve no information, having never watched it.)

Anyway. Lemme grab my dramatic effect capital letter shit back. Hang on.


You don’t get to fucking vote on what the end of a TV series is going to be, unless for some reason that is the gimmick of the series, in which case, what a shitty series that is, and anyone watching that crap kinda deserves whatever they get dished up.

So. A week or two ago, Joaquin Phoenix was doing a press junket for JOKER and a reporter asked something to the effect of, do you feel badly about making a movie such as ‘this’, are you concerned that people will imitate this character’s (SPOILER ALERT {really? I mean, come on, it’s the fucking JOKER}) ‘bad behavior’?

I’m not sure what his answer to this was, but this question pisses me off.

I saw this movie once about a giant shark that stalked people and then ate them. But you know what? Unbelievably, I never swam around in the ocean stalking people and then eating them because I saw this movie! In fact, I never even did it at all!

Dogs in SpaceMore realistically, I saw SID AND NANCY and DOGS IN SPACE and neither of those films ever made me shoot up heroin. I saw CLOCKWORK ORANGE and FUNNY GAMES and yet not once have I invaded a family home and raped anyone OR worn all white. I saw the second A STAR IS BORN and I NEVER ONCE wanted to see the first one, third one, or most recent one. What I’m saying is, not everyone is a hypnotized zombie when it comes to cinema. In fact, dare I say the majority are not.

The whole idea that now we must SANITIZE MEDIA when we do not even hold the commander in thief to that same sanitized standard is ludicrous.

I think Joaquin should have told the reporter that he was more concerned that needless wars over things like oil and land might inspire people to be violent, and that he saw that as possibly being a slightly larger problem than films, because you must pay to see a film, while war is free and can impact you whether you choose it or not. Perhaps address the leaders and the very military industrial complex itself, Random Reporter Lady who failed Relevant Interrogatories 101, before questioning the ethics of a performer in a work of commercial entertainment.

Or, continue to be a moron. There’s that option, too.


The people – mostly Twitter users, it appears – who comprise the Cancel Culture, you know,  I really have empathy for them, I do. I know that at their level of wokeness, it has to be difficult to be so gosh-darned hard on people, caring about social justice and all. And too, it must be DOUBLY difficult for them. Think of it – to have to publicly acknowledge that the problematic person they are cancelling is more talented than them, that must be a bitter pill to swallow. Cause generally speaking, talented people spend their time utilizing their talents and creating things, not destroying them. They don’t spend their time on the internet bitching people out. It takes many characteristics to facilitate membership proper in a net.mob, but talent is not one of them. Net.mobs take anyone (no qualifications or previous experience required *** Do you like a Rock and Roll atmosphere? Leads Provided! Start immediately! *** ).

bell hooks quote

When it comes to mobs, what is the difference between carrying tiki torches and  carrying Frankenstein torches really? Is there truly a difference at all? Because I don’t see one. They both appear to be a bunch of people wielding way too much fire and all sharing one very precariously-poised-in-useful-reality brain when clearly they – and the rest of us – would be much better off with the benefit of many, many brains of a more practical and community-oriented nature.

I don’t know what the answers are. But shutting everyone up by cancelling them en masse? I don’t think that cancel culture is the answer at all. In fact, I KNOW it’s not. The truth is the truth, whether it scares you or not. It’s better to know than to not know if someone is dangerous, or hateful, or misogynist, or whatever the fuck they are. But also, it’s kind of gross to completely ostracize people from everything before all the facts are in, or for “offenses” like saying something jack-assed and ignorant 10 years ago. We need to allow people to grow.

Now if someone is running around raping puppies or what-have-you? Cancel away, have at it. Have a cancel party and play that cool drinking game, The Devil’s Triangle.

I LIKE BEERYou know, just ONE of those senators could have said, “Oh, a drinking game. Can you tell me how that’s played, exactly? How did you and your friends play that?” But no. NO ONE WAS CURIOUS WHAT HE WOULD HAVE SAID TO THAT? And NONE of those senators EVER heard of a real Devil’s Triangle? REALLY?

I wonder if it is cold and moist UNDER THEIR ROCKS.


That’s it. That’s the rant.



PSA: Levothyroxine and Your Hair

If you have hypothyroidism – a sluggish thyroid – your doctor may prescribe Levothyroxine to bring your levels of T4 back up into normal range. This is what my doctor did. And while your mileage may vary, my experience has been that


This is not small cookies. This is in fact some bullshit. (Especially in my case, as I was never out of range to begin with – apparently my prescription was some sort of ill-fated preemptive strike.) There are other medications you can take besides this one. Because it is not a cool thing to look at your hairline and see daylight through it, especially when you are a lady-woman-female-chick (bald men are sexy, though I’m aware losing hair is traumatic for men as well).

Thankfully, hair lost to this med appears to come back, at least in my case it has. IF you stop taking the dastardly stuff, which I did. You know, provided that this particular side effect happens to you, as it has to all the people on this one forum I read when I Googled “Levothyroxine and hair loss”. And there were a lot of them.

But don’t go off your meds cold turkey. Do get in to see your doctor ASAP, and demand to be put on another medication.


Is There A Lawyer In The House??

image of judge's gavelI need an attorney. Boy, do I ever.

Today is a day that is a little troubling.

It is my wedding anniversary. And today, I am still married. I have been, for far, far too long.

See, my husband is in another state. I have not seen him since 2007. He will not pay for the divorce. Even though I obviously can’t pay for it. I WANT to file at the courthouse without him, which would cost around $500.

There is a solution to the fee, however. I can file for indigent status. For a fee of $25. A fee which I have, already, in the form of a money order. I have had this money order so long it is about to expire. (Actually I just checked it and the thing expired in November of last year. Bye bye, $25.)

Crazed Bride Brandishing ChainsawWhy haven’t I filed yet, you ask? Because the courthouse WILL NOT TELL ME WHICH FORM TO USE.

The issue is that you have to use a specific form if you are filing without your spouse. BUT. They don’t HAVE a specific form for that. SO you have to use one of the OTHER forms. BUT. They do NOT tell you WHICH ONE. And when you contact them down there at the courthouse, they tell you, “We can’t tell you which form to use.” They refer you to Bay Area Legal Services.

You call Bay Area Legal Services. Listen to their voice message which says they are open from 9 am to 11 am on random days (during a full moon maybe? and if the groundhog comes out of his hole that day?) and that you have to call the morning you want to come to see if they ARE open, and you have to come down and get on a waiting list and HOPE that you get seen before they close.

Bride Suspended in Air by RopeIn order to do this, I would have to Lyft to the courthouse and back, which would cost me about $40 plus 2 tips. Which I do not have. I double do not have it to just waste it on a trip where I might not even get to meet with someone who will give me the very, very simple answer I need. And being “slightly” (ha) agoraphobic, as well as having generalized anxiety, it’s really difficult for me to go sit and wait somewhere in public for 2-plus hours, especially if that wait may not end up getting me where I need to go, figuratively speaking.

I feel like if I could get divorced, FINALLY, that it would free up a lot of stagnated, repressed energy that has been held back by the past. It would get this big burden off of me, this nagging thing that I am never free of, this reminder of That Which Failed Horribly. And it has been SO FUCKING LONG. I mean, we are a year past the Crystal Anniversary here. That is  patently fucking ridiculous. This divorce is WAY overdue.

Do I question my future-ex-husband’s masculinity because he has not grabbed the proverbial bull by the horns and gotten this done long before? Yeah, fuck yeah, actually, I do. Because I have spent the last 12 years being Crazy as a Shithouse Rat(tm). I have been in no position mentally to handle this. And he has. He’s living his life somewhere unfettered. He was able to pick up and move to another state. I think he would have the temerity to handle a little paperwork and pony up a small amount of dough.

I mean, if he could not be a husband to me in marriage, the least he could do is be a decent husband in separation and fucking divorce me.

the Bride of FrankensteinBut this is not the case, unfortunately. Like everything else – including most of his belongings – he has left me to deal with it. Me, who has been trying to recover from a psychotic break and who is far from having all her ducks in a row in any fashion whatsoever. I am supposed to somehow navigate this in my addled, agoraphobic state, without any assistance from him whatsoever.

So yeah, I wish I knew someone who was an attorney. I wouldn’t ask them to handle the entire divorce. I would just want to know what form do I fill out, and what procedure to I follow to file it (i.e. can I file by mail?). The forms themselves are not difficult – this will be a Simple Dissolution of Marriage, which yep, I have filled out before (I’m a two time loser, dontchaknow) because I have a snowball’s chance in Hell at this point of getting any alimony or assistance. I was not smart enough to marry men either time who would provide alimony. And I am not the kind of girl to get knocked up so I can ensure my future care and support, unlike most of my peers here in the lovely state of Florida, who keenly and mercilessly inspect future baby daddies for their potential as future breadwinners.

Nope, I foolishly married for what I THOUGHT was love, both times, but sadly, I was mistaken, BOTH TIMES, and I married men who could really not have given less of a shit what happened to me. Men who did not even want to spend any time with me. Men who did not even want to fuck me. Nice, right?

Bride Brandishing Two Handguns

Yeah, I really have led a charmed life, between this marriage idiocy and all the trauma, torture, bullying and abuse, not to mention the co-morbid mental illnesses. It’s all “fun fun, rock and roll high school”, all day, every day, no, really.

So this is one of the many problems on my plate that I do not wish to eat. Not in a box or with lox or next to Michael J. Fox or wearing white socks. (Good luck finding all-white socks, btw. All of them seem to have grey toes and heels. What the hell?)

The only way I am going to be able to be free, it is clear, is to do it myself. This is a bullshit obstacle. Somehow I must find my way around it. Like every other bullshit obstacle in my life.

God damn it, I get so tired and beaten down sometimes.


Rabid Banality Mongers

It seems such a rare thing to ever glimpse an argument online where the parties calmly make their points, using their minds and ideas as leverage instead of the brute force of emotion. It is so seldom that I see people disagree on something where things don’t immediately devolve into – or hell, start off with – pettiness and personal attacks, launched with what surely must be the power of a thousand disappointments now directed at the one they debate.

And it’s so depressing, especially when I happen to share one of the opinions over which they argue. It turns the whole point into an indefensible one, because it is no longer about whatever issue was on the table, but instead who can hurl more shit. It’s disheartening when people just tear down others for sport because they disagree. When they ascribe certain characteristics to their foes which are ridiculously inaccurate demographically, turning their targets into cartoons and obscuring the real things they should be critiquing, it defeats the entire purpose. Why even debate anything with anyone if you do this? You’re not discussing a topic anymore. You’re just chewing on someone.

A lot of times in these pile-ons, people seem to believe they are saying some hilarious shit.  I am not shy about being a comedy geek. And I can tell you, I certainly would not stand in the way of comedy, if anything any of these people said was actually funny. But none of them ever say anything remotely humorous. And they all seem to make the same jokes, repeatedly. So it’s just bullshit. Trite bullshit that makes you cringe because it’s tasteless, but not in the fun way.  It’s like reading a bunch of shitty bumper stickers at a truck stop.

I know. I’m not perfect. I am so far from perfect that, as a much-maligned comedian once said, the light from perfect would take 6 million light years to reach me. And I have itchy amygdala that, well, the words IMMEDIATELY RESPONSIVE come to mind. I really should not be reading these threads. And being all judgmental. And from now on, I will resist that that morbid curiosity, that dark temptation to “smell the bad milk”. 

To paraphrase the late, great Carrie Fisher, there are softer walls to bang my head against.


I think that separating kids from their parents is pretty awful. You’ll have no disagreement from me on this issue. Seeing images of young children who have been wrenched away from their mothers is indeed heartbreaking. The thing that strikes me, though, is that through all of that, and through all of the cries of outrage and “This is not who we are” on Twitter, never once did I hear anyone mention, “Yeah, this is what adoption is like, too.” I mean, the only true difference I see, aside from external circumstance, is that the parent is generally in favor of the wrenching away. But you still have a child who isn’t asked, who isn’t capable of answering, “Would you like to be taken away from your parent and never see them again and never know them?” And through all of those separations, it was always the impact on the children that was the focus. So why wouldn’t it be the focus in the case of adoption, too? I’m probably making one of those arguments that in proper debate form you can poke a hole through as big as the Grand Canyon, that has a name like “Straw Man” or “Fred’s Fallacy” or something, but it really doesn’t seem THAT different to me. You get separated, there is a primal wound from this, you are traumatized in a deep place that eventually, if you are lucky, scabs over and heals, and the scar submerges itself somewhere where it’s not accessible on a day to day basis. It’s made out of the same tissue. I don’t know if it’s the same size scar. Maybe it depends on what happens to you after the separation, whether you are abused or well-cared for. But it’s the same kind of wound. And it would just be nice if people could see that. That separating children from parents is separating children from parents – it’s just that one is for political reasons and the other is for supposed ‘moral’ ones (read: money).

I Was Exchanged For Money And Attorney Fees And All I Got Was This Lousy Altered Birth Certificate.

Not that I care now. I actually, for the first time in my life, don’t. I just thought it bore saying. Someone needed to point out how fucked up the current (and former) system(s) of adoption are (and have been), because this is treated as normal, and it’s not normal. It’s twisted. (Not as twisted as making a whole other brand new human being inside of your body and then just leaving it with strangers and forgetting about it forever, but close.)

Did you know that a great way to remember how to spell the word “separate” is to remember that there is always A RAT in there? See if you forget how to spell it NOW. It’s in your brain!

I’m going to write shorter posts about one topic at a time instead of longer posts that are brain dumps, or at least that’s the idea. We’ll see how it pans out. This whole blog is just one big fumbling experiment in chaos anyway.


A foolish consistency may well be, as Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, the hobgoblin of small minds, but a considered consistency is something that might do this gal some good. There is a certain measure of difficulty to be found in the day to day and by certain measure I mean how much water cascades down Niagara Falls?

Don’t bother looking up ‘hobgoblin’. I did and the dictionary said, ‘a bugaboo’. A fucking bugaboo. What the…

I would have an easier time being consistent, I think, if I didn’t have a blind cat screaming at me all day and night. As just one example off the top of my head. She screams about what she wants. She screams about what she doesn’t want. She screams about who is on her pillow. But most of all, she screams like she’s expressing herself, like she’s telling everyone her troubles. I feel for her. But at the same time, it’s really nerve wracking. She’s got a hell of a set of lungs for such a little cat.

It is not really her fault that I am inconsistent, of course. It just seemed like a good segue because she was screaming and I was writing and it does drive me fairly insane(r).

So this is one of the things I will try to work on, if I can remember it. Just being honest. I have a weird tendency to completely space on things that are important to me. It’s probably rooted in trauma, like everything else inconvenient. But whatever. Anyway. This I shall endeavor to do. To be a bit more consistent in life, so that maybe life will be a little more consistent in exchange.

Now that I’ve put the double whammy hex on this idea by talking about it, we shall just see how this all pans out.